


Emerald Void

by TheKittyDeity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha Severus Snape, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forced Pregnancy, Heavy Angst, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Male Lactation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Older Man/Younger Man, Omega Harry Potter, Physical Abuse, Possessive Severus Snape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Severus Snape Is Emotionally Constipated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:08:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28102965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKittyDeity/pseuds/TheKittyDeity
Summary: After winning the Second Wizarding World, Tom Riddle rules over Wizarding Britain with draconian methods that are considered barbaric. If anyone disagrees with his leadership decisions, they disappear entirely or are severely punished for their disloyalty.Omega Harry Potter has been in hiding since he was sixteen, ensconced somewhere safe by Dumbledore before his death. He’s found and brought to the Ministry of Magic.Alpha Severus Snape is serving as Tom’s right-hand man and is stunned to see Harry Potter alive and well. The little Omega is gifted to him by Tom himself and is instructed to breed him.Severus finds himself inexplicably angry at the boy’s refusal to submit and his emerald eyes only remind him of what he’s lost...
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 32
Kudos: 206





	1. The Boy Who Lived

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I wanted to do a Snarry fic because all of the fics I’ve read about them are _way_ too fluffy for my taste and I thought FUCK IT, I’m gonna write one that _I_ like. 
> 
> This fic isn’t going to be canon-compliant, so if you’re expecting that, you’re going to be disappointed. 
> 
> Anyway, let me know if this interests you and you’d like to see more! 🖤🖤🖤
> 
> (Oh, and like my fic Beautiful Burden, **READ THE TAGS BEFORE YOU READ THIS FIC. THIS IS A DARK FIC.** )
> 
> Love you all. 🥰💅🏻

Harry had grown used to fear.

Fear had accompanied him since birth, seeming to meld with his very soul since his parents’ murder. He thought he had grown accustomed to it, having dealt with it so often throughout his tumultuous seventeen years of life.

But Harry had been mistaken. 

There was an entirely different kind of fear that was lying in wait around the precipices of his heart and it came in the form of a man.

One cruel, solitary man.

**XXX**

Hagrid was dead.

Harry stood next to the lifeless half-giant’s body, staring down at him in mute shock.

He lay face-down in the snow, a layering of snow already blanketing his large body.

Hagrid had been his only companion and friend for the past year of his life in hiding. He had hunted for him, consoled him, and cared for him as a parent would.

Harry could see the body of Hagrid’s dog, Fang, lying lifeless and bloodied several feet away. 

The wood he’d collected for the stove in their hut, fell from his arms, thunking softly against the snow-covered forest floor.

Someone had found their hiding spot.

Dumbledore had _assured_ them it was safe, that there was no way they could be found. The wards had been reinforced by the wizard himself and Harry knew Dumbledore’s magic was foolproof. He didn’t know of a witch or wizard who could have used magic as deftly as Dumbledore.

Harry glanced around, the forest quiet and unassuming around him. His frosted breath visibly plumed in front of his face as he nervously panted, narrowing his eyes.

Winters in the Siberian wilderness could be unforgivingly cruel. If you didn’t know how to properly take of yourself, you would be dead within a few days.

Luckily, Harry had been taught how to navigate the snowy terrain by Hagrid over the past year.

He knew the path to their designated Apparation point in case of an emergency. Hagrid used it to Apparate to the nearest town for supplies, but never had allowed Harry to accompany him.

He slowly pulled his wand from his parka pocket, brandishing it in his gloved hand.

He cast one last longing glance down at his mentor and friend, inwardly vowing that he would one day return and give the jovial giant a proper burial. Before he could become emotional, he forced everything down and turned to leave.

It was snowing harder now, making it difficult to see even three feet in front of him as he ran.

Falling snowflakes hit the exposed parts of his face as he sprinted through the forest, making it feel as if tiny knives were piercing his skin.

It was dark out, but Harry decided against using _Lumos_ to light his way. He didn’t want to bring attention to himself. The falling snow could mask his footprints, but he was unsure if the people who had killed Hagrid had already moved on.

Perhaps Hagrid had told them that he was already dead or that he had sent Harry away somewhere else. There was nothing very personal of Harry’s in the hut, but even if there had been, Hagrid could have told them it had been left behind.

He just hoped that Hagrid’s death had been quick and painless.

From what he’d read about the newly magically reformed Britain, however, he doubted it.

Somehow, Hagrid was sent deliveries of the Daily Prophet by snow owl. The large, spotted owl came once every three months, a copy of the Prophet sealed and rolled up, attached to it’s leg. 

Harry hadn’t pressed Hagrid about the owl’s owner or why the owl was allowed past the wards. The copy of the Prophet was the only connection they had to the life they had left behind.

Tom Riddle had become the Minister of Magic after winning the Second Wizarding War. He had shed the moniker of Voldemort after completing his transition back to appearing completely human.

Tom had been adamant about making Pure-blooded witches and wizards the ideal examples of magical perfection in his proposed plan.

He no longer wanted half-bloods or Muggle-borns to be in positions of power. If they had been, they had been stripped of their titles and careers and had been forced to take more subservient roles in Tom’s new world.

The executions had started almost immediately after Tom had assumed power.

Any witch or wizard who didn’t bend to his will was promptly killed. Their dead bodies were then placed under stasis and hung above the Floo network at the Ministry as a macabre example for those who didn’t want to obey.

After Harry had begun seeing more and more familiar faces of those killed on the front page of the Prophet, he’d asked Hagrid to stop the deliveries from the owl.

Harry had no idea what had become of Ron or Hermione. He could only hope that they had found a way out like he did. He knew they’d surely been hunted for their association with Harry and Dumbledore.

Like Hagrid, he hoped their deaths had been quick and painless, if they hadn’t been able to escape in time.

Guilt often plagued him, inexorably eating away at his subconscious each passing day.

Dumbledore had told him that it was imperative that Harry remained hidden, but how could he just continue living while those he loved were being _killed_?

Though Hagrid had been his protector for the past year, he had also been his jailer. If Harry had attempted to escape to return, Hagrid had always dragged him back.

_”I made an unbreakable vow, Harry. Ter make sure ye stay put until the time is right.”_

And now, Hagrid wouldn’t have to worry about that vow any longer.

Tears pricked Harry’s eyes, but he didn’t allow them to fall. They would likely freeze as soon as the frigid air made contact with them.

The Apparation point was two kilometers away from their hut in the woods. Hagrid had charmed the area to react to their magic signature, so Harry knew the spot would vibrate and alert him if he was nearby.

A cracking sound behind him made Harry stumble and stop running. He surveyed the darkened woods around him, unable to see anything but snow and trees.

Another _crack_ reverberated throughout the woods, almost deafening in volume.

Harry turned and dashed deeper into the woods, his wand raised in front of him.

A blinding bolt of light whizzed straight for him from the left.

“ _Protego_ ,” Harry cried out, shielding himself from the bolt of light.

The curse rebounded off of Harry’s hastily erected shield, careening back towards the direction it was cast from.

Just ahead, Harry felt the Apparation point pulse with awareness, making Harry pump his legs even faster, _needing_ to make it.

Two figures cloaked in shadows appeared with a resounding boom, several feet ahead. They stood in front of the Apparation point, wisps of smoke and tendrils of Dark magic clinging to their heels.

 _Death Eaters_.

Harry skidded to a halt in the snow, unsure of how to get around them.

Before he could make a decision, the tip of a wand pressed into the back of the hood of his parka.

”Are you trying to run, little lamb?” an insidious voice sneered from behind him. “Poor little lamb, your shepherd is dead and your flock has been culled. What _will_ become of you?”

Harry felt himself go suddenly go limp, his vision blackening around the edges. He fell to his knees in the snow, his consciousness fading.

The last thing he saw before his world went entirely black, was of someone’s black boots stepping in front of his face, a sharp contrast to the pure white of the snow.

**XXX**

Severus Snape strode down one of the black marble corridors at the Ministry, mentally preparing his mind shields in preparation for his meeting with the Dark Lord.

Tom was adept at rending apart even the most skilled minds, able to travel by a person’s synapses and pick and prod at heavily guarded memories until they gave way beneath his Dark touch.

Severus’ mind was one of the only minds that Tom wasn’t able to fully penetrate. 

Severus suspected that because of that reason, Tom kept him close as a confidante. Tom didn’t fully trust him, but was secretly impressed by his ability to block him from his mind. A mutual kind of begrudging respect had blossomed between them, edged with resentment. 

The whole Muggle saying about keeping your enemies closer, he supposed.

Severus entered the double doors that led to the Minister’s office without knocking.

He knew it irked Tom that he couldn’t sense him when he was close due to not having access to his mind. It always gave Severus a delicious tug of enjoyment deep in his stomach to see the infamous wizard momentarily caught by surprise.

So little things gave him enjoyment anymore. Truthfully, almost nothing did. 

But he _did_ enjoy this petty torment.

The tall Alpha stood by his Pensieve. It had been taken from Albus’ office after his death. There had already been a Pensieve stored at the Ministry, but Tom had been adamant about wanting Albus’ as his own.

Severus watched as Tom’s broad shoulders went rigid before quickly loosening. 

That was it.

Severus knew that reaction was him being surprised and Severus couldn’t help but smirk, endlessly amused by it.

”Severus. How nice of you to heed my summons.”

Severus studied him, trying gauge his mood. 

Tom turned to look at him, his dark eyes unblinking. Sometimes, Severus thought he saw a flicker of _something_ within those black depths, but he could never be sure.

Tom had a way of staring _into_ you. It unnerved most people, but with Severus, it was different. He knew that Tom was always _trying_ to see through him, but came up short. Since his mind magic was useless on Severus, he tried fucking with him by saying things to unsettle him, see if he could ruffle his stoic demeanor. 

Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Severus really didn’t care anymore. Everything important to him had been lost already, so he no longer held anything of consequence close to his heart.

He had nothing to lose and he knew it grated on Tom’s nerves.

Petty torments and all that.

”I will always come when you call, Minister Riddle. I am devoted to you and you alone.”

Severus knew his words sounded flat, but Tom would never question him on it. He really had no way of looking into his mind to see if what he said was true, so he tested his loyalty in other ways.

”Severus, I have a gift for you. Something I think you’re genuinely going to enjoy.” 

“Oh?” Severus asked, putting no inflection to it.

Tom walked to his desk as Severus watched.

Tom didn’t really walk, he glided, rather. It was as if he had forgotten how to act entirely human. There were times when Severus saw little glimpses of who he had used to be before using Dark magic to split his soul. If Bellatrix was in the room, Tom would allow her certain privileges he did with no one else. 

He was fond of the mad witch, but not in _love_ with her, no.

Severus didn’t think that Tom had ever really _had_ loved anyone in his life, and his resurrection had only obliterated whatever sentimental affections he had held close in his human years.

Tom sat behind his desk, pushing back some of his wavy dark hair with one pale hand.

”You’ve been such a good servant to me, Severus. You devote all of your free time to helping further my reign and I’m endlessly grateful for your obedience. I worry, however, that you spend no time on yourself.”

Severus stared at him.

What game was he playing?

”I assure you, Minister Riddle, I have no issues devoting myself to you entirely.”

Tom stared at him from across the room, going completely still in that eerie way of his that pointed towards something _inhuman_ lurking beneath the surface.

”You are almost thirty-eight and still unmated. You’ve bred no children to help ensure the continued purification of our bloodlines in the Wizarding World and it’s begun to worry me, Severus.”

Severus made sure to keep his face blank of all emotion. “I am busy ensuring that things are going according to your order, Minister Riddle. I do not have time for such things.”

Tom sat back in his chair, smiling. “Yes, I know. You’re quite proficient at that, I will admit.” He went silent for a beat. “Still, I want to reward you.”

”I do not require rewards for my loyalty, Minister Riddle. My loyalty for you is ingrained in my very blood, it is not based upon _gifts_.”

Tom smirked. “You always have impeccable answers, Severus.” He drummed his slender fingers atop his desk, a staccato rhythm that was annoying to Severus. “You were in love with that _Mudblood_ , were you not?”

“What Mudblood are you speaking of, my Lord?” Severus asked, keeping his tone neutral.

”Don’t play coy, Severus. Potter’s mother, Lily Evans. I saw it in Dumbledore’s memories. You admitted it to him.”

Severus shrugged. “I had to get him to trust me around the boy. It seemed like a good idea to lie about it to get me closer to him.”

Tom gave a low chuckle. “No, no. You were not _feigning_ your affections. You loved that red-haired wretch and it got under your skin that she chose someone else over you. I believe that’s when your hatred of Mudbloods began. I make many allowances for you, Severus, especially in the case of your tainted blood.”

Severus clenched his jaw, not speaking.

”Your mother chose to mate with a _Muggle_ ,” he spat the word as if it were disgusting, “I look past your half-blood status because of all you have done for me. You will accept my gift and you will _show_ me you are willing to atone for your mother’s mistake of tainting your bloodline.”

”Atone how, Minister Riddle?” Severus asked, wanting to crawl out of skin.

For the first time ever, Tom smiled and Severus thought it was because he was _actually_ happy.

It was unsettling.

”My gift for you comes in the form of redemption. We have captured the _boy_ , Severus. He was living in Siberia, hidden away with that daft half-giant, Hagrid.”

Severus felt as if the ground had opened up beneath him, sucking his very essence from his body.

“You’re saying...you found Harry Potter? He had been presumed dead.”

“Oh, yes, we found him and he’s very much _alive_. He’s an Omega, as I’m sure you know, like his mother. So few of them left in the Wizarding World. Pity I had to exterminate so many of them during and after the war, but they were unfortunately aligned with the wrong side.”

”Yes,” Severus agreed, “pity.”

Tom stared at him, the inky depths of his cold eyes, calculating. 

“But alas,” he said dryly, “casualties of war, I’m afraid. You will take him as a mate and you will breed him. Consider him a gift, an outlet to take out your remembered frustrations on. You will also report any findings you encounter in the boy’s mind to _me_. I don’t care how you treat him, so long as you keep his womb and memories intact. I am entrusting you with this, Severus. Do not disappoint me.”

Severus gritted his teeth, refusal on the tip of his tongue, but Tom narrowed his dark eyes, as if eagerly waiting for him to refuse.

This was a test.

Because of Tom’s inability to penetrate his mind, he was gifting the boy to him as a test. A final test to see if he was unwaveringly obedient to Tom, and Tom alone.

”I won’t disappoint you, my Lord. I will do as you ask.”

And when he proved he could do this, he would take pleasure in seeing Tom’s disappoint over his failed experiment.

Petty torments and all that.


	2. The Man Who Owns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg I’m so sorry for taking so long to update this story. 💀
> 
> I’ve been so stoked to return to it, though!
> 
> Enjoy. 🖤

“Wake up.”

Harry startled awake, gasping for air as if he had been deprived of it for far too long.

A man sat on his haunches in front of Harry, his wand dangling between his fingertips. He was smiling, flashing yellowed teeth. His dark, greasy hair was pulled back in a knot at the nape of his neck, his dark eyes mockingly narrowed.

“Good morning, little love,” he purred.

He sat up, belatedly realizing that he had been stripped down to nothing but his briefs.

The other thing he noticed was the unfamiliar weight around his neck. His hands shot up, grasping at the strange thing circling around his neck. The material felt odd, like plastic, but it was warm to the touch.

His fingers trailed along the back of strange collar, freezing when he felt what he could only assume was a metal loop at the back.

Had someone…put a _dog_ collar on him?

Something brushed against the nape of his neck, making him glance to the side. A long, silvery tether seemed to be connected to the back of his collar, snaking its way to the black-tiled floor and ending attached to an eyelet hook bolted into the ground.

His pulse quickened, his skin breaking out in gooseflesh as unease set in.

 _Where was he at_?

He glanced between his legs, noticing that he was on a… _mattress_?

Sure enough, it was a mattress that had been placed on the floor. It didn’t have any sheets but looked otherwise clean. He looked to be in some kind of...underground _laboratory_?

There were no windows, and the area was dimly lit. The only light was being emitted from what looked to be some enchanted torches hanging from either side of the cavernous room.

One side of the lab held two large mahogany bookcases stretching from floor to ceiling. They were both jammed full of ancient looking tomes, several pieces of parchment sporadically jutting out from between some of the books.

A small sofa was shoved to the side of one of the tall bookcases, an open book haphazardly draped over one of its arms.

The center of the vast room was taken up by what looked like a large worktable. Different phials, decanters, and cauldrons were scattered across the top it.

“Don’t be frightened, little lamb. I won’t hurt you.”

Harry froze, fear skittering up his spine. He met the man’s eyes, recognizing his voice. It was the man that had cornered him in Siberia.

“W-where am I? Where did you take me?”

The man stood, sneering down at him. “The first thing you’ll have to learn is how to address your superiors, _half-blood_.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Who are _you_ and why am I here?”

The man moved quick as a snake, grabbing Harry by the back of his collar and jerking him up.

He pulled at the back of his collar, forcing Harry to rise to his tiptoes, the collar cutting off his airway and making him choke.

He pulled Harry back against his chest with one arm, his other hand keeping a tight grip on his collar.

The man pressed his lips to Harry’s ear.

“This is a new world, _Harry Potter_ ,” he hissed. “The Dark Lord has spared your pathetic life, for whatever reason. You will be a good lamb and stay _silent_ , lest you join your flock in the slaughterhouse.”

Without warning, he released Harry’s collar and threw him bodily to the side.

Harry stumbled, his bare feet catching against something on the cold floor. He was too focused on sucking in mouthful of oxygen to completely steady himself. His back thumped into something solid, making him whirl around in surprise.

Dark eyes met his, framed by several locks of equally dark hair. It took Harry a moment to recognize the man towering over him. He wasn’t dressed in his usual dark robes; they had been replaced by dark trousers and black button-down. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, the Dark Mark adorning the pale skin of one of his sinewy forearms.

“P-professor Snape?” Harry stammered.

His professor grabbed both of his wrists, making his breath hitch as his long fingers tightened around Harry’s wrists.

“Little Omega slut was mouthing off to me, Severus,” the man drawled, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over himself, looking pompously smug.

Snape’s eyes flickered over to where the man stood, darkening even further. “Did I give you permission to touch my property, Antonin?”

Harry tried pulling away from Snape, but he held fast, twisting him around in his arms, his back to Snape’s front.

The man, Antonin, straightened and shrugged.

“I’m the one who brought him back. You do nothing but scuttle about the recesses of the Ministry, doing whatever secretive tasks the Minister assigns you while the _rest_ of us are out doing the dirty work.”

Snape scoffed, giving a warning yank to the cord connected to Harry’s collar as he struggled in his arms. “I’ll be sure to let the Minister know that you’re unsatisfied with your rank, Antonin. I’m sure he could find more… _stimulating_ duties to assign you to.”

“Is that a threat, _Severus_?” Antonin snarled, raising his wand in front of him.

The flames of the enchanted torches in the lab flickered wildly, Snape going absolutely still behind him.

Antonin’s eyes darted nervously between Snape and the flickering flames, his body tensing.

“You’ll _know_ when I threaten you, Dolohov,” Snape said, voice deadly calm. “Now, get _out_.”

Antonin let out a shaky chuckle, slowly skirting around them. “Now, now, Severus. I was just jesting. I was just having some fun with the little runt. Omegas are in such low supply now and it’s been a while since I’ve last scented one. Forgot how sweet they smell, enough to make you _salivate_.”

Snape pulled Harry closer, his back pressing against his hard chest. “Out,” he said coolly.

Antonin gave Harry one last lecherous look before turning and disappearing into a corridor off to the side of the lab.

When Antonin was out of sight, Harry felt Snape loosen behind him. The flames of the torches returned to normal, the flickering halted.

Harry reached up with one hand, curling his fingers around one of Snape’s wrists.

“Professor, I don’t know what’s going on, but—”

Snape cut Harry off by jerking his tether, making him cry out as his collar cut into the skin of his throat.

“You will speak only when spoken to, _Omega_ ,” Snape spat.

“W-what is _wrong_ w-with you?!” Harry choked out, his fingers scrabbling at his collar as his airway was, once again, cut off.

Snape remained silent and jerked Harry towards the mattress he had woken up on. He dragged him by his tether, the bottoms of his bare feet scraping against the cold floor as he attempted to remain upright.

Snape used his grip on Harry’s tether to roughly throw him onto the mattress, his back slamming against thinly cushioned surface, his breath knocked out of him upon impact.

When Harry caught his breath, he sat up, his chest rising and falling with harsh pants.

His neck was sore, his feet hurt, and he was undeniably _scared_.

He wished Hagrid was there, he wished—

Oh, _Hagrid_.

The image of his old friend’s lifeless body lying in the snow flashed through his mind, making him wince. He hadn’t had time to process Hagrid’s death and now his current situation was making the tumultuous emotions within him clash in a maelstrom of calamity, his fear only inciting it.

He looked up, meeting Snape’s dark gaze.

Why was his professor treating him so _harshly_?

Snape had gained notoriety at Hogwarts for his cold demeanor and callous words, but this, this was—

“Why are you _treating_ me this way, Professor?” Harry asked, his voice hoarse from his collar.

Snape was on him before he could blink, one of his hands wrapping around his throat above his collar and slamming his head back against the mattress. Harry let out a strained whimper, his vision going fuzzy around the edges for a moment.

“Dolohov was right,” Snape said in a low, rough voice. “You need to learn your place, Potter. Wizarding Britain’s hierarchy has changed, and you are at the bottom with the _dregs_ of magical society. I _own_ you now. The faster you accept your place, the safer you will be.” 

Harry wrapped his hands around Snape’s forearm, digging his fingers into his skin, right over his Dark Mark. “Safe from _what_?” he gasped.

Snape smirked, releasing Harry’s throat, bloodied crescent marks marring the skin of his forearm from Harry’s short nails.

He stood, staring down at Harry with hooded eyes. His face was shadowed from view due to the poor lighting from the torches, tendrils of his dark hair sticking to the sides of his full lips as he smiled cruelly.

“From me.”


End file.
